Sandy so far…

On the 306^th day of my 30^th year I spent my second hurricane on Long Island. Although my first, Irene, sated my appetite for natural disasters, I was treated to the indulgence once again in the form of Sandy. Learning from my first experience, I headed to the home of dear friends. Captain Jack made sure our vessel stayed warm, dry, and well fed. Sandy seemed to be a bit more of a bitch that Irene-stealing not only power and trees but lives and homes. We learned early to count our blessings as we heard reports of the death and destruction to our east and west. Our largest hassles were dark nights, cold showers, and sparse gas. We struggled to understand the loss of those so nearby.  After a couple housebound days, I ventured out touch base with my staff and look for some gas. Miles long lines and downed trees hampered my progress, but no moment was more frustrating than the results of a poor choice at a non-working stop light. After griping about the lack of consideration I had seen from my fellow drivers and my disbelief at their failure to obey traffic laws, I gave in and decided to join the crowd. My moment of abandon was poorly placed however, as I cut in front of a state trooper. I discovered that not only was I not having a good day, but neither was he. We exchanged few words, but the ticket he handed me was worth a thousand words- obey the traffic rules, no matter what the other assholes around you are doing. Feeling mostly shame and embarrassment for my own lack of judgment, I returned to my friends. As the best of friends always do, they expressed shock that I could do such a thing, and then offered me a plate of warm food. My gratitude grew as the days without power increased in number. Continued searches for gas were not only fruitless, but frightening so I gave up. I sheltered myself at another port, my office, whose power had returned. I told my tale of woe to my work family, and was again stunned by kindness. In a matter of hours I had two more hot meals, some gas in my car, and a warm bed to sleep in. My work family has taught me that life is not about what you can get, but what you can give- a poignant lesson in this time of survival. I was enveloped by light, warmth, and laughter as I shared my Sandy story. Trying to return to the rhythm of work was difficult. Phone, internet access, and even light were like an assault to the senses. Feeling like a thirsty person taking their first drink in days, I was elated but overwhelmed at all that my senses were taking in. After firelight and flashlight, I had to adjust to the lamps I had become so accustomed to. My senses felt bombarded by stimulation after spending time with only two other people and the drone of generators.  Driving in traffic seemed like a skill I needed to relearn and personal interaction tired me out. A taste of a simpler life with stress kept at bay on the fringes had lulled me into a complacent state. Going back to work forced me to confront reality. I was healthy. I was safe. I was dry. I was fed. I was washed. I was not alone. I had fared better than so many. It was time to carry on.